Stricken
by IsisIzabel
Summary: *PERMANENT HIATUS* Andie's father comes home and she is forced to confront her past when it collides with her present.
1. Chapter 1

**Stricken**

**By:** IsisIzabel

**Chapter 1**

Andie West knew something was wrong the moment she stepped inside the two-bedroom townhouse. It was too quiet inside for five o'clock on a Tuesday evening. The rain would have chased her adopted brother, Charlie, inside to play, but he was no where to be seen. There should be movement in the kitchen as Sarah prepared dinner, but a quick glance through the open downstairs proved Sarah wasn't there.

Andie kicked off her shoes and ran a hand through her tangled, soaked hair. She had wrung it out as best as she could on the porch, but icy rivers still cut paths across the bronzed skin of her back.

The storm had kicked up out of nowhere, as was typical for August in Maryland. It could be sweltering and sunny in the day and then a massive storm front would sweep across the sky, dropping buckets of rain and making steam hiss from the asphalt.

Andie licked her lips slowly, barely tasting the remnants of her cherry-flavored chapstick. A lazy smile crossed her face as she remembered Chase's enthusiastic kisses as he tasted the gloss shimmering on her lips. Tasted _her_.

"Sarah?" Andie finally ventured, stripping off her light jacket and shivering as the air conditioning tripped across her bare skin. Her eyes lifted upwards as she finally noticed movement upstairs. Sarah appeared at the landing, her expression unreadable.

Taking an involuntary step back, Andie eyed her guardian warily. "What is it? Is Charlie sick?" There was still no sign of the little guy.

Sarah cleared her throat as she reached the bottom and shook her head. "No. He's spending the night at Will's."

Nodding slowly, Andie tried to smile. "Oh. OK. Cool." Her eyes searched Sarah's face for answers, but she found nothing.

_Run_.

She nearly started as the word whispered through her mind. It repeated itself again with growing urgency, pulsing like a beacon.

"Andie, why don't we sit down?" Sarah suggested, already moving for the couch.

Andie stayed by the door, her hand reaching towards the knob blindly. "What's going on, Sarah?"

Sarah finally sat and looked up at Andie through thick, dark lashed. "Honey—"

Fear sliced through Andie like a hot knife. She knew that tone. The last time… Her mind stumbled as it came across the memory that surfaced.

"_Honey, your mother's gone."_

Sarah had looked the same then as now. The same somber, intense look.

"Tell me." Andie ground the words out through clenched teeth, effectively cutting off whatever maternal, soothing spin Sarah was about to put on what she had to say. Andie didn't need comfort—she needed truth. She could deal with facts.

Sarah swallowed, her gaze level and unflinching. "Your father called."

Andie's fist closed around the doorknob. "My father?" she repeated dumbly, her mind conjuring up a faded image of the man she hadn't seen in eight years.

Sarah's gaze flickered to Andie's hand on the door. "Andie, come sit down."

Slowly releasing the knob, Andie felt her feet propel her towards the sofa. She sat gingerly beside Sarah, fixing her guardian with a muted, cautious look. "What does he want?"

"To see you," Sarah answered plainly, trying to gauge Andie's reaction.

Anger flared through Andie suddenly, burning in her chest. "What does he want _now_? Mom's been gone for over a year, and he didn't want anything to do with me _then_. I haven't heard from him since Mom and I left him when I was eight!"

Sarah placed a calm hand on Andie's forearm. "I know, Andie."

Andie jumped to her feet, eyes flashing. "I don't want to see him," she snapped impatiently. "Did you tell him that?"

Sarah hesitated, unsure. "No—"

"Next time he calls, tell him," Andie interrupted. "Better yet, give me the phone and _I'll_ tell him." Snorting, Andie turned away and started for the stairs, anxious for the solitude of her room.

"It's not that simple, honey."

That word—_honey_—stopped her cold. It did every time. Andie paused, her hand on the banister. She twisted and looked down at Sarah, who looked decidedly ill.

Sarah twisted her hands in her lap, avoiding Andie's gaze. "Andie, he's petitioned the courts for custody of you."

Andie's jaw went slack. Her mouth moved, but no sound came out. Fear closed around her, its icy tendrils squeezing her heart, suffocating her. She couldn't form a sentence, couldn't breathe. The room spun—tilted at an odd angle—and slowly righted itself. The clock on the mantle ticked out the seconds as they slipped away from her.

"He can't do that…" Her mouth tasted like ash as she choked the words out.

Sarah surged to her feet, crossing the small living room to grab Andie's hand. "I don't know, Andie, but I have guardianship of you. And like you said, he didn't come back for you when your mother died—the courts will see that."

"And if they don't?" Andie hated the tremor in her voice, hated the weakness.

Sarah's hand tightened reflexively. "They _will_."

She wanted to believe her. Wanted to follow Sarah back to the couch and curl up against her the way she had her mother as a little girl. If only her mother was still alive…

Andie squared her shoulders and pulled away from Sarah. She wasn't a child anymore, and there was no changing the past. It was better not to dwell on it.

"Of course they will," Andie agreed robotically, choking back her emotions. She watched as a shadow passed over Sarah's face.

Sarah reached for her again, but Andie easily stepped away. She forced her lips to curve into a smile. "You're right, Sarah. It'll be fine."

But the words rang hollow to them both.

Andie eased up two steps, her back ramrod straight. "I think I'm going to go to bed." She raked a hand through her drying hair, her fingers snagging on a knot.

Sarah's gaze flickered nervously from Andie to the second floor. "Andie—"

"I'm OK, Sarah. _Really_." Another step up. Another step away.

"What about dinner?"

"I ate with Chase." The lie came easily, naturally. "I'm just…tired. It was a long practice."

Sarah wasn't convinced, but wasn't going to press the issue either. With a small shrug she took a step back, relenting. "OK, Andie."

With another strained smile, Andie spun and took the stairs two at a time. She reached her bedroom and slipped inside, closing the door and leaning heavily against it. Her heart pounded out an irregular cadence in her chest.

The room was suddenly too small, closing in around her. Andie's fingers fumbled for the lock and she staggered to her bed, falling face down on the worn comforter. She wanted to scream. To cry. To rant and rave at the unfairness of the entire situation.

She paused for a moment and looked back at the door. She considered going back downstairs, considered telling Sarah the truth that Andie and her mother had carefully hidden. Sarah would tell the courts, tell them exactly what kind of man Howard West was.

Andie dismissed the urge almost immediately. No. Telling Sarah would mean others would find out, and it was better if no one knew. Humiliation burned in her chest, radiating up to her cheeks as they flushed crimson.

He had no right. He had no right to come back in her life now. Not when she had worked so hard to push away every memory he had burned into her mind.

She was finally making a good life for herself, the kind of life her mother would have been proud of. She had found her place at MSA, had wonderful friends, and then there was Chase…

_Chase_.

Andie lurched to her feet uncertainly. She was going to be sick.

She made it to the bathroom in seconds, dropping to the floor and emptying the meager contents of her stomach into the porcelain bowl. After flushing, her rinsed her mouth out and dared to look up at the image in the mirror.

It was clear in her eyes. Not fear, not worry. It was something darker, more sinister.

_Terror_.

--

Andie made certain she stayed in bed long enough for Sarah to check on her. Her back to the door, she controlled her breathing long enough to convince Sarah she was sleeping. She waiting an extra thirty minutes to be sure Sarah was truly in her own bed across the hall before getting up.

She didn't need much. She had thrown a few articles of clothing, a brush, and some necessary toiletries into an old gym bag earlier, stashing it in her closet.

With practiced secrecy, she eased out of her room and down the stairs, carefully avoiding the last step. The house was old and that step in particular had a habit of groaning under the most minimal of added weight. It had given her away on more than one occasion.

She stepped outside and closed the door behind her, taking the time to lock it behind her.

Humidity saturated the air, making it hard to breathe as she pulled the black hood of her sweatshirt over her head and started off down the walk. Heat lightening flashed in the distance, and she cut down and alley.

It was safer to stay in the shadows and remain undetected. The streets of Baltimore weren't safe during the daylight, and there was a reason for the city mandated curfew at midnight. She didn't need any kind of trouble—from the cops or otherwise.

Her feet carried her quickly to her destination. It would take her the better part of thirty minutes to get there if she had to stay off the main roads, and the buses weren't running at this hour. Her gym bag slapped against her hip in time with her brisk walk.

Her mind turned over the events of the last few hours, and she was more certain now than ever of where she was going.

Cutting across the last alley, she came up to the street, noticing the five men that lingered on the adjacent corner. Their conversation died as they saw her, their cigarettes glowing red dots in the darkness.

She hurried up the sidewalk to the fourth house on the left, keeping her head down as she went up the stairs and knocked quickly.

"Come on, come on," she chanted softly under her breath. She dared a look back at the men across the street, relieved they were still in the same place and seemed to have gone back to their conversation.

She knocked again, louder.

There was movement now, and a light came on behind the door as a shadow passed the peephole. The locks clicked as someone started opening the door.

His dark eyes were confused and tired as he stared down at her dumbly. "What are you doing here?"

Andie felt her chin tremble, and she swallowed down the swell emotions, nearly gasping. "I need your help," she whispered, not trusting herself to speak louder.

He watched her, his gaze more awake and his stare intense. After a long moment he nodded and moved back from the door, granting her access. "OK. Come on."

Andie stepped into the door and flashed him a grateful smile, feeling safe for the first time in hours. "Thanks, Tuck."


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

The knocking woke him up. It was incessantly loud for this time of … He forced his eyes open and looked at the clock.

2:07 a.m.

Who the hell needed him at two in the morning?

The door to his bedroom opened suddenly, light from the hallway flooding in. "Wake up. We need you downstairs."

He pushed himself up, looking at the man framing the doorway. The light from the hallway assaulted his vision, made him squint into it. "What?"

Blake's eyes narrowed, his expression worried. "Get up, Chase. Andie's guardian is here—Andie's gone."

Clarity slammed through Chase as he rolled out of bed, grabbing the discarded t-shirt on the floor. He tugged it over his head as he followed Blake into the hall and down the stairs to the foyer.

"Sarah," he called when he was halfway down, blinking away the grogginess. It melted away as he saw Sarah pacing on the marble floor.

Sarah turned, her worry in her eyes. She opened her mouth to speak, but Chase beat her to it.

"Where's Andie?"

Sarah visibly sagged, defeated. "She isn't here?"

Chase's bare feet hit the landing and he came to stand in front of Sarah, towering over her by six inches. "No, Andie's not here. I dropped her off at home earlier when we got done practice." Confusion was being replaced by something else.

Fear.

"Oh, God," Sarah mumbled, rubbing her eyes with the heel of her hand. "I should've known this would happen."

"Known _what_ would happen?" Chase demanded, becoming more awake and more concerned with each passing moment.

Blake put a hand on his younger brother's shoulder. "Easy," he warned softly before looking at Sarah. "Why don't we all go and sit down?" he suggested. He took Sarah by the elbow and led her into the parlor, Chase following silently behind.

When they were all seated—Blake and Sarah on the overstuffed couch and Chase in an antique armchair—the elder Collins turned to Sarah. "Now, what happened to Andie?"

Sarah's gaze flickered to Chase and he got the distinct impression she was about to censor whatever had transpired between her and Andie.

"Andie got some … bad news," Sarah said evasively.

"What kind of 'bad news'?" Chase cut in quickly, his eyes darkening. He leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees, bracing himself.

"I told her that her father contacted me. He said he wanted to see her," Sarah replied softly, shaking her head. "Andie and her father never had a very good relationship, and she didn't handle the news well."

Blake turned a questioning glance to his younger brother.

Chase shrugged. "Andie's never talked about her dad with me." He looked over at Sarah. "What happened that she'd run away at the idea of seeing him?"

Sarah shifted. "I'm honestly not sure," she answered, uncertain. "I never asked, and Marie—Andie's mother—never mentioned why she left Howard." Sighing, Sarah buried her face in her hands. "If she's not here, then where is she?"

Despite the gravity of the situation, Chase almost smiled for a second. Sarah thought Andie would come to _him_ first.

As quickly as the thought entered his mind, another formed:

If Andie didn't come to him first, then where else would she go?

"Did you try Missy?" Chase asked slowly. It stung a bit to think Andie would go to her for help before him, but they'd only been dating for a few months. Missy and Andie had been friends for a while before that.

Sarah shook her head. "I came here first."

Chase stood quickly. "I'll try calling her." He didn't wait for a reply as he stalked from the room towards the stairs, his long legs eating up the distance. He hit the stairs at a sprint, taking them three at a time. His cell phone was in its cradle, charging. He quickly unplugged it, finding Missy's number in his contact list and turning to go back downstairs as it started ringing.

"_What?"_

Chase winced at the harsh tone. "Missy, it's Chase. Listen—"

"_What the hell, man?" she whined. "It's freakin'—"_

He clenched his teeth. "I know what time it is. Have you heard from Andie?" He knew the answer before she replied.

"_Andie? No. Why? What's going on?"_

"Andie's … gone." He frowned. There really wasn't another word for it.

"_What d'you mean she's 'gone'?"_ _Missy was waking up now._

"Look, it's a long story. Can you call around and see if anyone's heard from Andie?" He made the request as he walked back into the parlor. He shook his head at Sarah's questioning glance, and sighed as her face crumpled.

"_Yeah, sure."_

Chase ended the conversation and hesitated in the doorway. "Missy hasn't heard from her," he said unnecessarily. He scrubbed a hand over his face and looked down at Sarah. "Where else would she go? Who would she go to?"

Blake touched the back of Sarah's hand. "Would she leave town?"

Chase felt his heart slam against his ribcage in alarm. Andie wouldn't leave town without telling him …

… would she?

"I don't think so," Sarah murmured, trying to focus. "She grew up here. Her aunt lives in Texas, but Andie's never wanted to go there. She has an uncle in Buffalo, but he's in a nursing home." Sarah shrugged helplessly. "Her whole life is _here_."

"Then she's here somewhere," Chase affirmed with conviction. "We just need to find her." He looked at the cell phone in his hand again. "You've tried calling her?"

Sarah nodded, miserable. "It goes straight to voicemail. She has it off."

Chase sighed quietly. "She'll check her messages, though. Maybe if I left her a message…" He turned away and walked back into the hallway, hitting Andie's number on speed dial. He frowned as his girlfriend's breathy voice came on the line:

"_Hey, you got Andie. You know the drill."_

"Andie, it's me," he spoke softly into the phone after the mechanical beep. His gaze flickered back to Sarah, who was talking to Blake, shaking her head. "Look, I'm not sure what's going on … Just call me, OK? I'm worried." He lowered the phone and stared at it for the span of several heartbeats before hitting the 'END" button.

--

"Sorry, Missy," Tuck said into his phone, sitting beside Andie on the old sofa, "I ain't heard from Andie."

Andie stared at him with anxious eyes, her knees tucked up to her chest, where she was huddled on the end of the couch.

Tuck's eyes hardened. "Yeah, I'll call ya if I hear from 'er." He ended the call abruptly and fixed her with a longsuffering look before tossing the phone onto the battered coffee table in front of them.

"Thanks," Andie whispered, biting at one of her nails.

Tuck leaned back against the cushions. "D, you can't stay here forever."

"I just need to get my head together," she answered quickly. "I promise I won't be here too long—"

Tuck sighed loudly, leaning forward. "That ain't what I meant. You know you can stay here as long as you need, D, but someone's gonna find you sooner or later."

She nodded quickly, her head jerking in rough movements. Tuck considered walking to the kitchen and grabbing her a beer—something, anything, to settle her nerves. Her eyes wandered, staring hard at an invisible spot on the adjacent wall.

"Why here?"

Andie blinked and refocused her gaze back to him. "What?"

"Why'd you come here?" Tuck asked again, his voice softer. "I ain't no secret we haven't talked in months. Hell, I don't know why Missy bothered callin'. They must've tried everyone else."

Andie shifted, uncomfortable. She ripped the nail on her thumb with her teeth. "Because … because you _know_. You know what my dad did."

Tuck figured as much, but he still needed to hear her say it. He nodded slowly, still waking up.

Andie was shaking her head slowly, her brow furrowed in concentration.

"What?"

She glanced up at him. "How did Missy know I was missing?"

Tuck grimaced as if he'd sucked a raw lemon. "Your boy Chase called her."

"Chase?" Andie's voice lifted an octave. "How the hell would he—"

"Apparently Sarah knows you're gone and went to him, thinking you'd be there," Tuck cut in, frowning.

Andie groaned. "Sarah knows I'm gone?"

Tuck snorted. "What? You think she wasn't gonna figure it out, D?"

"I thought I'd at least get until the morning before she …" Andie trailed off weakly, sighing.

Tuck shifted uncomfortably. "Do you even have a plan?"

Slowly, morosely, she shook her head, her doleful eyes luminous in the faint light. "I just knew I needed to get out of there."

"And you came here," Tuck answered calmly, rationally. "What do you want to happen, Andie? 'Cause I have no idea."

"I just want it to … to _stop_. I want him to go away and leave me alone," Andie hissed quietly. "Why now? Why is he here _now_? It's like my life is finally going the right way and now this?" She swiped at her eyes, not having the strength to fight the few tears that managed to escape.

Tuck blew out a long breath and leaned forward towards her. "Look, D, I think it's time you told someone."

Her eyes snapped up to his face. "_What_?"

He held up his hands, trying to calm her. "Ease up, girl. All I'm sayin' is, it might be time to tell someone what happened with your dad."

"What? Like the _police_?" she scoffed, incredulous.

Tuck frowned. He wasn't a fan on the police and as a general rule tried to avoid them. "Maybe," he allowed. "Or Sarah."

Andie was still shaking her head.

Tuck looked away, visibly swallowing his pride. "What about Chase?"

Andie surged to her feet suddenly, eyes blazing with horror. "_No_!"

Tuck nearly jumped. "Dammit, D—"

"He can't ever know!" Her pitch turned a step away from hysterical. "None of them can—"

Tuck caught her hand and tugged her back down to the couch, sitting. "OK, OK," he relented, uneasy. "We won't tell them."

Andie swallowed audibly. "Tuck, the only reason you know is because … you were _there_ the last time I saw my father." She was shaking, her hands trembling as she buried her face in them.

His hand settled on her back, rubbing in slow circles. "OK. I got it. We won't tell."

A long, uneasy silence settled between them. It thickened, hardened, making it difficult to breathe. To think.

"It wasn't your fault, you know."

His voice was so soft, she nearly missed it. Not sure if she'd heard him correctly, Andie dared a glance up. "What?"

Tuck's gaze was uncharacteristically gentle. "It wasn't your fault, Andie."

Her face twisted, broken, as she struggled to catch her breath. "Tuck—"

"You were a kid, D," Tuck went on, his tone low and gravelly. "You didn't do a thing wrong. He fucked up—not you. You ain't got nothin' to be ashamed of."

Andie looked up at him, desperately wanting to believe his words. "I can't ever tell anyone," she choked out. Tear droplets hung like suspended crystal on her lashes, threatening to shatter against her cheeks. "I just want him to go away."

Without thinking about it, Tuck drew her tight against his side, hugging her to him. "It'll be OK, D. I won't let him near you."


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

She couldn't even find peace in sleep.

Tuck leaned in the doorway of the spare bedroom and watched the worry lines carve themselves into her face as she tossed restlessly in her slumber. Memories of another life haunted her dreams, lurking in the shadows of her charred subconscious. It was poison, all of it, but he had no clue how to cut it out of her life.

Andie was his surrogate little sister, had been since he met her as an eleven-year-old six years earlier. The little girl who loved to dance and refused to run home when he—a man at sixteen—ordered her scram. Instead the brunette girl in pigtails studied their moves—his moves—with unflinching comprehension that someone her age shouldn't have. After a session, she could mimic almost all of their moves. Slowly, Tuck's protests of her staying became less adamant, and more amused.

She never left, and pretty soon he stopped caring.

It wasn't until she was thirteen that he understood what had happened to her.

Understood that she danced to escape. To live again.

The same reasons he did.

Their roads were different, but they had come together at the same conclusion: Dance was their way of regaining what had been lost, stolen. It wasn't simply movements and beats; it was a method of coping. Surviving.

Since that day, Andie had been an honorary member of whatever crew he was in. At fifteen, she had been one of the founding members of the 410.

He could still remember the disbelief in her eyes when he told her she was done in the 410 only months earlier. The memory tasted like iron in his mouth, bitter and cold.

It hadn't been that she was at MSA. Tuck knew Andie was talented, and MSA was a great chance for her. It was a chance he, and most of the other 410 members, could only dream of. MSA could open all sorts of doors for her, and he wasn't selfish enough not to want that for her.

It was the _lies_. The fact that she couldn't trust him with her decisions when she had trusted him with so much more.

_Lies_.

The word churned in his stomach, angry and roiling. He had never handled betrayal well, and it was no secret he considered the other members his family. But with Andie it was different, something more. He thought they were too close for that to happen to them. Her lies, that she felt the need to lie, caught him completely off-guard and he'd reacted badly.

He couldn't fault her for forming her own crew. Andie was born to dance, a fact that she had proven at the battle.

The battle.

He couldn't stop the smile that drifted across his face, unbidden. Despite the burning rage he felt at watching her dance and blend effortlessly with another crew, he couldn't help but be proud of her. Andie had blown them all away. But then, she always did.

Tuck grimaced. He wasn't too happy with her taste in _guys_, though.

Despite their public falling out, Tuck had been careful to keep tabs on Andie. He knew from several sources she had been dating Chase Collins since that night. From what he heard, Andie was happy, and he couldn't fault her for that.

Tuck clenched his teeth, scowling into the darkness as he turned away. He'd be damned if he'd let Howard West rip away all Andie had worked for these last few years.

--

Chase reluctantly locked the side door to MSA, giving it a quick tug to make sure the lock served its purpose. He'd about given the night janitor a heart attack when he had show up thirty minutes earlier looking for Andie.

"She's not there?"

Chase spun quickly, his heart slamming against his chest at the voice behind him. He sucked in a sharp breath as he made out Moose and … Sophie?

He frowned and took a few steps towards them. "What are you two doing here?" His gaze landed on Sophie as he asked.

Sophie's expressive brow eyes widened and she looked hesitantly at Moose.

Moose frowned. "Looking for Andie. She's not there?" he repeated.

Chase shook his head. "No. She wasn't inside." He raked a hand through his disheveled hair. "I have no idea where she is.

"Damn," Moose muttered. "I tried calling, but it went to voice mail."

"Yeah, me, too," Chase replied, looking down the empty street. "I have no idea where she would go. I checked here, Sarah went back to the house to see if she went back, I called everyone…"

"Has anyone called the police?" Sophie asked softly.

Chase gaze cut to his ex-girlfriend, the reason Andie had once been expelled from MSA. The girl who had manipulated the truth to keep them apart, and had nearly succeeded. "No, Sophie, we can't call the cops."

She winced at his harsh tone. "Maybe someone should. Isn't it their job to find people?"

Chase opened his mouth to bite out a reply, but snapped it shut at the last moment. He sighed deeply. "Sarah's worried if we call the cops, she'll lose custody of Andie. Andie could be sent to Texas to live with her aunt, or something."

"Oh." Sophie scuffed the toe of her shoe against the concrete.

Chase eyed her critically. "Why are you even here, Sophie?"

"She was watching a movie at my house when you called," Moose interrupted, his voice cool as Sophie stepped closer to his side.

Chase couldn't hide his surprise. "Oh, really?" His tone was more mocking than he would've liked, but it was there nonetheless. His patience was gone, and standing by as Sophie Donovan made a ploy for Moose—a guy she never dared look at until he joined Chase's crew—was like tap-dancing on an exposed nerve tonight.

Sophie had the decency to flush, folding her arms under her chest nervously. "We were just hanging out."

"Not that it's any of _your_ business," Moose added, scowling in a way that made him look even younger.

"Whatever." Chase shook his head and started heading across the street for his truck.

"Call us if you here anything!" Moose yelled out.

Chase waved a hand to indicate he'd heard as he unlocked the door of the SUV and climbed in the driver's seat. He shut the door and leaned his head back against the headrest, wondering for the hundredth time that night where the hell Andie was.

--

He was never going to get any sleep.

Tuck stomped down the stairs, grumbling under his breath as he wrenched the door open. He glared at the familiar face in front of him. "What the hell do you want?" he demanded crossly, blocking the doorway.

"I want to see Andie."


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

Andie could hear muffled voices downstairs as she forced away the fogbank of sleepiness that kept trying to drag her under. Blinking, her eyes fixed on the digital clock beside the twin bed she occupied. Her eyes widened: 10:24.

If the sunshine outside was any form of an indicator, it was safe to assume it was morning.

Sarah would be freaking out. She had probably called the police.

She sat up in bed, turning her head to the door. Was that who Tuck was talking to? Had the police found her so soon?

She swung her legs over the edge of the bed and stood on shaky legs. She forced herself to take the five steps to the corner of the room where she had tossed her gym bag hours earlier. She rifled through it and quickly changed into a pair of denim cutoffs and a simple white tank top. She glanced at herself in the mirror and stared.

Who was that girl?

She barely recognized the pale face, the dark circles under the wide eyes. She needed a shower, but it would have to wait. She scraped her hair into a messy ponytail and reached for her deodorant, grateful she remembered to pack it.

With a sigh, Andie headed out of the room and tripped lightly down the stairs.

"Dammit, Tuck," an angry voice hissed, "you can't just keep her here."

"What the hell else am I supposed to do?" Tuck demanded hotly, his back to Andie as she slowly descended. "You didn't see her last night. She's way too—"

The step groaned loudly, alerting the occupants of the room to her presence. Three sets of eyes turned to her.

Missy moved first, relief clear on her face. "_Jesus_, Andie!" She cried, throwing her arms around her friend. "What the hell, man? You can't jus' take off like that an' not tell anyone!"

"Sorry," Andie muttered, not returning the hug. She fixed Tuck with an accusing glare.

Tuck read her expression and held up his hand, defenseless. "Hey, _they_ figured out you were here. Don't go blamin' me."

Andie looked at the last person in the room as Missy stepped back. "Hey, Felicia."

Felicia eyed Andie critically, not making a move to go to her. "You OK?"

Andie shrugged. "Been better." She turned to Missy. "How'd you find me?"

Missy rolled her eyes, flipping her curly hair over a shoulder. "Your boy, Chase, called me at like three in the morning. 'Course when I called Tuck _he_ lied and said you wasn't here." She tossed her former crew member an angry look.

Tuck snorted and shook his head. "Andie, I'll be outside." He pivoted and headed out through the kitchen for the backyard.

"It was Felicia here who figured out you came here, though," Missy went on, undaunted. "She said you'd come here. Called me after she came here last night and found you sleepin' upstairs."

Andie's head swung in Felicia's direction. "You came here last night?"

"Wasn't that hard to figure out," Felicia replied coolly, her expression unreadable.

Andie shifted, nervous. "You guys told anyone I'm here?"

Felicia's gaze narrowed. "No, Andie, we haven't ratted you out."

Andie's jaw dropped open and she realized her mistake. "No, Fe, I didn't mean it like that …"

"Then how did you mean it?" Felicia demanded, crossing her arms over her chest.

Missy's eyes darted back and forth between them, nervous. "Why don't y'all take it easy," she suggested softly. She put a gentle hand on Andie's arm. "We haven't told anyone you're here, D, but Sarah and Chase are flippin' out. They're crazy worried. You gotta call 'em, tell 'em what's up."

Sighing, Andie dropped onto the couch. The old cushions sagged under her weight, engulfing her. "I know, I know. And I will."

Missy looked hesitantly at her watch. "Look, I gotta bounce. Ma's having _abuela_ over for dinner and I'm supposed to help her clean up."

Andie nodded. "It's cool. I'm fine."

Missy looked down at her, hands planted on her narrow hips. "No, _chica_, you anything but all right. You need to call your boy, and call Sarah. Then call me." She flashed her friend a winning smirk and turned to leave.

She paused and glanced back at Felicia. "Do I need to tell Tuck to get back in here? 'Cause he's gonna be pissed if you two get blood everywhere."

Felicia rolled her eyes. "We're fine, Missy." She waited until the Latina sashayed out of the room before moving. She sat down on the coffee table, perching precariously on the edge, her knees almost touching Andie's.

Andie lifted her eyes slowly, nervous. "How'd you find me?"

Felicia snorted, amused. "Please, girl. Soon as Missy called me, I knew your ass was here."

The younger girl tilted her head to the side. "You did?"

"Remember the night your mom died?" Felicia reminded her, her tone soft.

Andie flinched visibly at the reminder. So many things had changed that night.

"No one could find you after you left the hospital. Tuck came home and found you sleepin' on the couch." Felicia shook her head ruefully. "He's your safe place, D. You always run to Tuck when you get scared."

Andie fixed her eyes on a spot behind Felicia, neither confirming nor denying.

"There's something Tuck gives you that you need, D," Felicia went on. "Something he's got that no one else has—"

Andie's eyes snapped back to the face in front of her. "It isn't like that with me and Tuck," she retorted. "He's my friend."

"Funny that you go running to your _friend_ and not your _boyfriend_ when things get tough," Felicia shot back, amused. "Does Chase even know where you are?"

Andie's jaw clenched and she stood up abruptly, walking away from Felicia.

Felicia chuckled softly under her breath. "I didn't think so."

"It's really not what you think, Fe," Andie muttered. "It's not that I don't trust Chase, it's just that … he doesn't get it."

"But Tuck does?"

Andie shot her a scathing glare. "You don't understand."

"Then explain it to me, Andie." Felicia stood up and spread her arms wide, waiting for a response. "Tell me what's going on."

Andie looked down. "I can't."

"Can't? Or _won't_?" Felicia asked pointedly.

Andie didn't know what to say. She knew the answer—they both did—but she couldn't forced the words out of her throat.

"Well, there you have it," Felicia said slowly, sadly, as she shook her head. "You need to wrap your head around this thing and figure it out. You ain't a kid no more. You can't hide forever."

Andie was still staring at the floor as Felicia brushed past her. She heard the door open and close loudly a moment later.

She didn't know how long she had been standing there when Tuck came back into the room.

"I messed up," Andie finally spoke, quiet.

Tuck shrugged and sat down on the couch, waiting.

Her head came up. "I need to go." She was already heading towards the stairs for her bag as Tuck scrambled to follow.

"Go where?" he demanded, chasing her into her room.

Andie threw her belongings back into the bag she had brought carelessly, rushed. "I have to go back. Felicia's right—this isn't fixing anything."

Tuck nodded slowly, watching her tug at the zipper frantically. He came to her and took the bag from her, closing it easily and handing it back. "I think you're right."

She pushed her bangs off her face. "Thanks for letting me crash here, Tuck."

"Anytime."

She slung the bag over her shoulder and headed for the door.

"Where ya gonna go?"

Andie stopped in the doorway and turned. "I need to call Sarah, and I need to find Chase. He's probably freaking out right now." She bit her lower lip, a nervous habit she'd acquired as a child.

Tuck sighed and rolled his eyes to the ceiling.

"I know you don't like Chase, but he's a good guy, Tuck," Andie said softly. "He makes me happy."

"You gonna tell him the truth?"

She hesitated, scared. "I don't know. Maybe. If I do, I know I can trust him."

Tuck nodded, silent for the moment.

Andie drummed her fingers on the doorframe. "Thanks again." She forced a faint smile on her lips and started to turn.

"Wait."

She did, arching an eyebrow.

Tuck sighed again, louder, and scrubbed a hand over his face. "Need a ride?"


End file.
